


Paranoia

by stephanericher



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7057744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a breach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paranoia

There’s a breach, a slim passage into the _Finalizer_ where a human, with all of their disgusting infrared heat and humming communication devices, can and does fit through. Mitaka finds the spy, apparently huddled and shivering (because space is cold and they are on a budget and Hux refuses to heat the insides unnecessarily, only enough to keep them in good working order (and he’s crunched the numbers to whatever the fuck he declares to be the most efficient usage of heat; he’d said it at an officers’ meeting when Ren was only half paying attention to his words, more to the curve of his lips and the way the words slither out of him as they fall across their captive audience).

There’s a breach; there’s a Resistance spy attempting to infiltrate, but they had failed to account for the cold and crawled out right into the open in front of a patrolling Mitaka. Ren had not seen them, only heard of the extraction of information (not much, nothing worthy) and subsequent execution of the spy, followed by a trace of the electronic signature of their comlink (thankfully jammed by the ship’s own radiation for the duration of the crawl) to find the hatches left unsecured. The next hour the maintenance droids had been crawling through the ship’s guts like antibiotics, patrolling for any bacterial Resistance scum left and destroying any foreign devices the spy had planted (thankfully not active), sealing the gaping security wounds like blood clots.

And that is that, the dull sort of incident that passes for excitement on board this stupid ship. There is still a buzz of gossip like a low undercurrent in the Force, but that should be there—the wire pulled tighter than an overwound guitar string beginning to undo its spirals should not. Hux should just file away the report and be smug as usual that his little cost-cutting measures had foiled the Resistance again, but instead he’s winding himself up and over, tangling himself the way wires left in the cargo hold of a freighter always do. And worse than that, it’s filled with a dark possession, clamping down on the atmosphere and sucking everything in—perhaps unintentional (of course unintentional; Hux likes to think he’s so neat and perfectly-placed but his Force presence is a fucking mess) but the message clear: this is _his_ ship, _his_ crew, _his_ Order. If Ren thought Hux capable of such tender little feelings, he’d think Hux was being protective of his home, and as it is this is probably (how pathetic) the closest thing Hux has to a home (but then again, Ren’s never asked and doesn’t really want to know).

Hux is twitchy, twitchier than usual, a spasmic droid nearing the end of its lifetime. It’s easy to make him jump, restrain himself from whirling around—every footstep is an intruder pointing a blaster at his back; every hiss of the door vacuum unsealing is a rebel who’s hacked the controls. Ren could tell him it’s pointless, that if anything got that close he’d feel that kind of self-righteous and self-martyring presence in the Force and do away with them, not for Hux’s benefit but because Snoke would have his head if he let anything happen to one of his generals. (And, well, for a general Hux is okay, vastly preferable to any of the other shitty officers Ren’s had to work with).

And it’s fun to make him jump, to see him (with his eyes, with the Force) almost physically withhold from pulling out the blaster Ren isn’t sure he’s ever actually fired.

“Afraid, General?” Ren purrs, the vocabulator smoothing out any remaining unevenness from his voice.

“Just what are you insinuating?”

Hux’s voice is even; his hands are clenched in their gloves (to keep from shaking), and were they bare his nails would be leaving imprints on his palm and drawing little crescents of blood.

“Nothing. I’m just asking. You know, if you are in need of extra security—”

“My troops are vigilant.”

The words cut him off like a wobbling saw through flesh, far too messy, not the way his words usually slice cleanly and cauterize as if he’s using a lightsaber.

His jaw twitches; his eyes stare at the stars through the viewport. Ren turns. A droid in the corner squeaks and Hux does not turn his head. He’s frightfully composed, in a way that suddenly hits Ren is almost like his mother (the way she’d told him when he was a child that she’d been a princess, that all eyes were on her and she’d have to stand still and tall and look pretty and proper but never let them mistake her for weak and soft) and he storms out. This is not what he wants to think about right now; one more thought like that and he’ll be sent over the edge.

There has to be a room he can destroy, hopefully large and full of dead droids.

* * *

The temperature-control system is noisy; regular maintenance is due tomorrow and Ren hates that he knows that, hates that he’s absorbed this information from hanging around Hux too long. It’s clearly the cause for Hux’s disturbance; every clogged breath of the system spikes the tension in his Force presence and makes him twitch in false alarm, and it’s awfully hard for Ren to sleep like this (not to mention awfully stupid of Hux to dwell on some imaginary burglar; it’s not as if the Resistance has enough manpower to try the same stunt again when it didn’t work the first time).

“I can put you to sleep,” Ren says. “Let me.”

“Absolutely not,” says Hux.

The system wheezes but Hux’s presence remains calm. Ren would really rather not talk him to sleep; he’s not some kind of nursemaid who gives people bedtime stories.

“Maybe you should increase the heating budget on these quarters,” says Ren.

“I’m comfortable.”

“That so?”

“Hmm.”

The system shuts off. There’s nothing but eerie quiet around them. Hux’s eyes flutter shut; he hears no threats (imagined or otherwise) to the security of his star destroyer. And then, finally, he sleeps.


End file.
